First Jade, now Mosley. I should take down serial killers more often. Everybody wanted to do me favors now.
I wasn’t about to pass up this opportunity.
“I have questions. About Fletcher. And the Circle. Did he tell you about them?”
Mosley nodded. “Yes. Fletcher didn’t tell me much about what he was up to or about the group itself, but I’ll be happy to answer what I can. Perhaps over dinner one day soon?”
“I’d like that.”
He smiled at me. “I would too.”
“But first things first.” I stabbed my pen at him. “You need to order some food. Fletcher would never forgive me if I let one of his friends leave without a good hot meal.”
Mosley chuckled, thinking that I was joking. But when he realized that I was serious, he ordered a platter of pulled barbecue chicken, along with baked beans, a garden salad, and a basket of Sophia’s homemade sourdough rolls. I also threw in a heaping serving of blackberry cobbler with vanilla-bean ice cream for dessert.
Some more folks came in to eat, and we were suddenly busy again. Sophia helped me fix Mosley’s food, and I’d just set it on the counter in front of him when the bell over the front door chimed. I looked up to call out a greeting to my new customer, but the words died on my lips when I realized who it was.
Hugh Tucker had just strolled into the Pork Pit.
30
I had two knives in my hands before Tucker took another step into the restaurant. Silvio was also on his feet, his tablet clutched in his hand as though he planned to brain the other vampire over the head with it. Sophia was at the far end of the counter at one of the cooking stations, but she had a death grip on a cast-iron skillet, ready to wade into the fray. Mosley turned his head, wondering what had alarmed the three of us. I didn’t know if he recognized Tucker, but his eyes narrowed, and he tightened his grip on the knife and fork in his hands. Everyone else was still absorbed in their food and conversations, and they didn’t notice the sudden tension in the restaurant.
Tucker held up his hands and slowly walked toward the cash register where I was standing. “I’m not here to fight. I just want to have a simple conversation.”
I gripped my knives a little tighter. “And what’s to stop me from cutting you down right here, right now?”
He glanced around. “Well, all of these nice folks, for one thing. You wouldn’t want to ruin their meals, would you?”
He was right. More than two dozen people were in the restaurant, chowing down on their barbecue and side dishes. They hadn’t come here to witness a murder, and I wasn’t about to subject them to that, especially not Elissa, after what she’d just been through. No matter how badly I wanted to kill Tucker.
“Plus,” he continued, “I have someone stationed outside the restaurant with a gun aimed right at you. Just for some added insurance.”
I glanced out through the storefront windows. I didn’t see anyone lurking on the sidewalk, but that didn’t mean they weren’t out there, maybe sitting in a car at the curb. Not that a gun would do them much good outside, since the windows were bulletproof. But if a fight broke out inside the restaurant and my customers started fleeing out the front door, the shooter could always decide to target them instead of me. So as much as I hated it, I had to play along with Tucker. Besides, I thought that I knew exactly why he was here, and part of me wanted to see if I was right.
“Fine,” I snapped. “What do you want?”
He tilted his head at an empty booth in the back corner of the restaurant. “Why don’t we go over there and discuss it? Away from prying eyes and ears?”
He looked at Silvio, who shrugged back at him. Thanks to his own enhanced vampiric senses, my assistant would still be able to hear our conversation no matter how softly Tucker talked.
“Lead the way,” I said.
“So you can stab me in the back with one of your knives?” Tucker laughed. “I don’t think so. Why don’t you put those away so we can have a civilized conversation like normal people? And I do hope you know that it’s not a request.”
He gestured with his hand, and I had no choice but to slide my knives back up my sleeves, step out from behind the cash register, and head over to the booth. I started to sit down, but Tucker called out behind me.
“Other side, please. I prefer to sit with my back against the wall. Plus, I wouldn’t want Ms. Deveraux getting any bright ideas about sneaking up behind me and whacking me on the head with her lovely skillet.”
I ground my teeth. That had been exactly what I was hoping would happen, but I glanced over my shoulder at Sophia and shook my head, telling her and Silvio to stand down. Sophia went back to her cooking, while Silvio sat back down on his stool. Mosley relaxed a bit too, although he kept glancing in this direction.
Once I was sure that my friends were going to hold their positions, I did as Tucker had commanded and sat down in the booth. He unbuttoned his dark blue suit jacket and slid into the opposite side.
He stared at me, and I looked right back at him. His gaze focused on my hair, once again its usual dark brown color and pulled back into a ponytail.
“You dyed your hair back already.”
“You sound disappointed. Why? Because I don’t look quite as much like my mother anymore? You should be careful about dwelling on the past, Tuck. One day you might wake up and be just like Bruce Porter.”
He arched his eyebrows, but he didn’t respond to my taunt.
I leaned forward and fixed my cold gray gaze on his inscrutable black one. “Actually, I’m glad that you came by today.”
“Really? Why is that?”
“Because I have something that belongs to you.”
I started to drop my hand down under the table, but Tucker waggled his finger at me. “Ah-ah,” he warned. “Slowly, Gin. Slowly.”
I wasn’t about to pass up this opportunity.
“I have questions. About Fletcher. And the Circle. Did he tell you about them?”
Mosley nodded. “Yes. Fletcher didn’t tell me much about what he was up to or about the group itself, but I’ll be happy to answer what I can. Perhaps over dinner one day soon?”
“I’d like that.”
He smiled at me. “I would too.”
“But first things first.” I stabbed my pen at him. “You need to order some food. Fletcher would never forgive me if I let one of his friends leave without a good hot meal.”
Mosley chuckled, thinking that I was joking. But when he realized that I was serious, he ordered a platter of pulled barbecue chicken, along with baked beans, a garden salad, and a basket of Sophia’s homemade sourdough rolls. I also threw in a heaping serving of blackberry cobbler with vanilla-bean ice cream for dessert.
Some more folks came in to eat, and we were suddenly busy again. Sophia helped me fix Mosley’s food, and I’d just set it on the counter in front of him when the bell over the front door chimed. I looked up to call out a greeting to my new customer, but the words died on my lips when I realized who it was.
Hugh Tucker had just strolled into the Pork Pit.
30
I had two knives in my hands before Tucker took another step into the restaurant. Silvio was also on his feet, his tablet clutched in his hand as though he planned to brain the other vampire over the head with it. Sophia was at the far end of the counter at one of the cooking stations, but she had a death grip on a cast-iron skillet, ready to wade into the fray. Mosley turned his head, wondering what had alarmed the three of us. I didn’t know if he recognized Tucker, but his eyes narrowed, and he tightened his grip on the knife and fork in his hands. Everyone else was still absorbed in their food and conversations, and they didn’t notice the sudden tension in the restaurant.
Tucker held up his hands and slowly walked toward the cash register where I was standing. “I’m not here to fight. I just want to have a simple conversation.”
I gripped my knives a little tighter. “And what’s to stop me from cutting you down right here, right now?”
He glanced around. “Well, all of these nice folks, for one thing. You wouldn’t want to ruin their meals, would you?”
He was right. More than two dozen people were in the restaurant, chowing down on their barbecue and side dishes. They hadn’t come here to witness a murder, and I wasn’t about to subject them to that, especially not Elissa, after what she’d just been through. No matter how badly I wanted to kill Tucker.
“Plus,” he continued, “I have someone stationed outside the restaurant with a gun aimed right at you. Just for some added insurance.”
I glanced out through the storefront windows. I didn’t see anyone lurking on the sidewalk, but that didn’t mean they weren’t out there, maybe sitting in a car at the curb. Not that a gun would do them much good outside, since the windows were bulletproof. But if a fight broke out inside the restaurant and my customers started fleeing out the front door, the shooter could always decide to target them instead of me. So as much as I hated it, I had to play along with Tucker. Besides, I thought that I knew exactly why he was here, and part of me wanted to see if I was right.
“Fine,” I snapped. “What do you want?”
He tilted his head at an empty booth in the back corner of the restaurant. “Why don’t we go over there and discuss it? Away from prying eyes and ears?”
He looked at Silvio, who shrugged back at him. Thanks to his own enhanced vampiric senses, my assistant would still be able to hear our conversation no matter how softly Tucker talked.
“Lead the way,” I said.
“So you can stab me in the back with one of your knives?” Tucker laughed. “I don’t think so. Why don’t you put those away so we can have a civilized conversation like normal people? And I do hope you know that it’s not a request.”
He gestured with his hand, and I had no choice but to slide my knives back up my sleeves, step out from behind the cash register, and head over to the booth. I started to sit down, but Tucker called out behind me.
“Other side, please. I prefer to sit with my back against the wall. Plus, I wouldn’t want Ms. Deveraux getting any bright ideas about sneaking up behind me and whacking me on the head with her lovely skillet.”
I ground my teeth. That had been exactly what I was hoping would happen, but I glanced over my shoulder at Sophia and shook my head, telling her and Silvio to stand down. Sophia went back to her cooking, while Silvio sat back down on his stool. Mosley relaxed a bit too, although he kept glancing in this direction.
Once I was sure that my friends were going to hold their positions, I did as Tucker had commanded and sat down in the booth. He unbuttoned his dark blue suit jacket and slid into the opposite side.
He stared at me, and I looked right back at him. His gaze focused on my hair, once again its usual dark brown color and pulled back into a ponytail.
“You dyed your hair back already.”
“You sound disappointed. Why? Because I don’t look quite as much like my mother anymore? You should be careful about dwelling on the past, Tuck. One day you might wake up and be just like Bruce Porter.”
He arched his eyebrows, but he didn’t respond to my taunt.
I leaned forward and fixed my cold gray gaze on his inscrutable black one. “Actually, I’m glad that you came by today.”
“Really? Why is that?”
“Because I have something that belongs to you.”
I started to drop my hand down under the table, but Tucker waggled his finger at me. “Ah-ah,” he warned. “Slowly, Gin. Slowly.”
